Safe
by Charis77
Summary: Camelot is a magnet for constant mortal peril. So why does Merlin feel safe at all?


**Author's Note:** This fic was requested by MsMiniMerlin who gave me several ideas that have been worked into the story leading to a spin on the visiting noble trope. Enjoy!

* * *

He hadn't expected to see him again, ever, especially not since he'd come to Camelot, to a place that meant safety and friendship. Well, besides all the enemies that sought to attack Arthur for Uther's past actions. Or the ones that wanted gold. Or power. Or... Come to think of it, Camelot wasn't safe at all, so why did it seem so in his mind?

Merlin kept his head low as the visiting noble climbed the front steps next to Arthur, though he peeked out of the corner of his eye for any sign of recognition. After the king and lord entered the citadel, the knights assigned to the greeting party began to disperse. Merlin slipped away among them. Arthur hadn't called for him, and he made a beeline to Gaius' chamber.

"Anything you need?" Merlin asked as he barreled through the door. "Herbs collected? Medicine delivered? Market shopping?"

Gaius looked up in surprise. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Nothing at all."

Gaius cocked his head. "My Merlin never _offers_ to do tasks."

"I have."

"Not until now."

"Accept your good fortune, then!"

Gaius met Merlin's gaze, and the servant attempted to appear innocent and carefree. Gaius narrowed his eyes for a moment, but then pointed to three bottles and two pouches on the counter.

Merlin snapped them up, memorizing Gaius' delivery instructions as he retrieved his satchel and secreted the wares inside. By the time Gaius finished, he was already out the door.

* * *

Merlin dawdled, making the deliveries last as long as possible. He accepted a meal from widow Ursel, flirted with Felice at the carpenter's, gave advice on Gentian's seemingly lame cow, and commiserated with old man Warin over the current weather, which Merlin found all right but the resident curmudgeon always hated. Merlin paused to smile at the currently empty stocks as he made his way back home. He hadn't been locked in them in quite some time—years, actually. His thoughts flitted back to that first day he met Arthur and Gaius had traded his release from the dungeon for time in the stocks. What a destiny had begun that day!

Merlin hiked onwards and was but a little way past the lower town when a voice stopped him in his tracks. "Grown up quite a bit, haven't you? The little prattling bastard."

Merlin's heart skipped a beat, but he ground his teeth. He was a grown man, not a youth, and he didn't have to fear. Not here, not now. He turned and feigned confusion. "Excuse me, my lord, but are you addressing me?"

The noble across from him grinned lopsidedly. "Yes. You. _Boy_." Everything was familiar—the voice, the arrogance, the turquoise clothing, the wicked moss green eyes.

"I'm afraid I don't know you." He turned to move on, but quick steps and a rigid grip on his arm halted his progress.

"It's you," the deep voice hissed in his ear. "I asked around. You come from Essetir. From Ealdor. And your name is Merlin."

Merlin jerked his gaze to the noble defiantly. "What of it?"

The noble grinned. "As bold as you once were. You know what it took to fix that the first time."

Flashes from the past passed through Merlin's mind. He rose to his full height. "You're in Camelot, and I work for the king."

"And what if he knew the truth about what you are?"

"Then tell him," Merlin shot back. "Now let me go."

The noble dropped his arm, but continued to glare. Merlin forced himself to keep a steady pace and not flee back to the citadel like a scared rabbit.

* * *

"What do you think of Lord Hedlef? Merlin?"

"What?" came Merlin's muffled voice.

"Lord Hedlef. How does he seem to you?"

Merlin slid out from under Arthur's bed and stared at the king lounging at his desk. "Are you sure you saw a rat?"

Arthur tilted his head at him, eyebrows raised. "Why would I send you under there otherwise?"

"I don't know," Merlin muttered, wiping at the dust bunnies peppering his clothing. "To clear it out?" He flicked a grey mass at Arthur, but it flew only a centimeter before floating lazily to the floor.

"There _is_ a rat, and I don't want it nesting in my mattress."

"There's no evidence of it."

"Make a trap," Arthur ordered. "Its dead carcass should be proof enough for you."

"Yes, _sire_." Merlin hopped up, still brushing off his clothes, and headed to the door.

"I was asking you about Hedlef."

Merlin halted, but didn't turn around. " _Lord_ Hedlef?"

"Who else?"

"What do you want to know?"

"Does he seem trustworthy?"

Merlin slowly turned. "Maybe. Possibly."

Arthur shook his head. "That's really helpful, Merlin."

"It's not like I'm friendly with him, so how can I know what he is or isn't."

Arthur leaned farther back in his chair. "You've never been reluctant to share your opinions of our guests."

Merlin forced a yawn. "Long day. I'm tired."

Arthur sighed and glanced down at several sheaves of parchment. "I need to know if I can trust him. Forging a pact with with him would weaken Lot's hold on a portion of Essetir and make allies for the kingdom in an unstable region." Arthur's finger slid over a crude map he'd drawn. He looked back up. "And Lord Hedlef's territory is near Ealdor."

"Is it?" Merlin asked nonchalantly.

Arthur's expression fell in disappointment. "I thought you might know of him."

Merlin stared in indecision. Arthur was right. It would be advantageous to secure Lord Hedlef's good graces. What had happened in his past didn't change that, and it didn't nullify Hedlef's ability to keep his word. His word wasn't what taunted Merlin. Unfortunately, even horrible men could be valuable allies.

Merlin kept silent so long Arthur waved a hand. "You're useless, then. Go get a trap."

Merlin bowed his head once and exited without another word.

* * *

Arthur spent most of the next day in negotiations, and to Merlin's relief had decided his manservant needn't be present for hours of tedious discussion. Merlin attended to all his normal duties and by evening was comfortably tired, but still not ready for sleep. He decided to walk the lower town, maybe see if any of the knights had made it to the tavern. Their camaraderie always soothed his soul.

He'd made it about halfway to the tavern when a hand appeared and yanked him into a darkened path between two buildings. He was slammed against a wall and an arm crossed his windpipe. "What did you tell him?"

Merlin grasped the arm restricting his airflow. "N-oth-ing." The arm moved away, but hands at his shoulders pinned him back.

"You must have said something."

Merlin stared into Hedlef's eyes made all the darker by the cold shadows of the night. "He asked about you and I didn't say anything."

"You lie."

"I'm not."

"He's reluctant. And from what I've gathered it's because you have his ear. All the court tells me you're the secret mover of the king's will."

Merlin scowled at Hedlef. "Arthur makes his own decisions."

Hedlef pulled him away from the wall then slammed him against it again eliciting a groan from Merlin. "He'd better make one in _my_ favor."

Merlin yelped in surprise as a knife point pressed into his belly.

"If he doesn't, I know who to blame." Hedlef dropped him and hurried away.

Merlin slid down the wall, slumping to his knees. He gripped his arms around his middle and realized he was shaking. He hadn't been this afraid in...well, since the dorocha. He cradled his head in his hands. It had been so long ago now, but not long enough to wipe away the fear.

"Merlin?"

Merlin glanced up to see Gwaine, Elyan, and Percival. He pushed himself to a stand.

"You all right, mate?" Gwaine asked. "Haven't been drinking without us, have you?"

Merlin laughed and shook his head. They knew he never drank to excess; he couldn't chance losing control of his actions, not with _his_ powerful magic. "Just enjoying some night air."

Gwaine stepped up to him and slung an arm over his shoulders, directing him back onto the street and towards the tavern. "Join us."

Elyan chuckled behind them. "We won't tell Arthur."

Percival snickered.

Merlin grinned. They also knew Arthur assumed he frequented the tavern way more than he actually did. The knights had made a silent agreement not to dispute the assumption. Not that they wanted Merlin in trouble. Quite the opposite. Merlin understood through their silence that they trusted him and accepted his right to go missing whenever he pleased.

Merlin smiled to himself as they reached the noisy tavern, all fears forgotten in the company of his friends.

* * *

Merlin only managed to doze throughout the night, nightmares of the past and present blurring together, disturbing his rest. He stared at the ceiling for some time in the early morning hours, fighting indecision and worry. He didn't like inserting himself into Arthur's politics unless the king or Camelot was in mortal peril, but for whatever reason, Arthur had reservations about Hedlef. The combination of the king's intuition and his own experience produced foreboding about any kind of alliance.

Merlin dressed and crept through Gaius' chambers. It was too early to wake the king, but he couldn't sleep anymore. He'd poke his head in Arthur's chamber, collect the laundry, and get ahead by a chore.

When he reached Arthur's door, Merlin slowly creaked it open. To his surprise, Arthur was already up and sitting at his table.

"Arthur!"

The king didn't look up at him. His eyes squinted intently at the same parchments from two days before, but they'd been spread out along the table. Two candles next to them had burnt almost to nubs. "Shhhh."

Merlin glanced at Gwen still soundly asleep. "Why are you up?" he whispered.

"This," Arthur muttered softly back, pointing at the parchments.

"Do you want breakfast?"

Arthur shook his head, then turned to look back at the bed. "But Guinevere..."

"I'll go get it." Merlin made to close the door.

"Wait! Merlin."

Merlin popped his head back in. Arthur gestured for him to join him at his side. "What?"

Arthur ran a finger over the parchment with the crude map. "I found out more about Hedlef. He was lord of this area for a time."

Merlin swallowed as Arthur's finger ran over the approximate location of Ealdor.

"Though he was eventually dispossessed." His king fixed him with a critical gaze. "I want to know about him."

"He's a lord. You know them. Pompous, supercilious prats like you."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "But there's something more with this one. I...just don't feel right about him."

Merlin pressed a hand to his middle, recalling the knife point jabbed at his belly. _He'd better make one in_ my _favor. If he doesn't, I know who to blame._ Merlin clenched his jaw. Hedlef didn't have any power here. He graced Camelot at Arthur's good will alone. An alliance might be advantageous, but Merlin felt in the pit of his stomach it would be the wrong choice.

"Trust yourself, Arthur," Merlin advised firmly. "Don't make an accord." Merlin turned back to the door and had almost exited when he heard Arthur's reply.

"Thank you, Merlin."

He smiled, quietly shut the door, and made his way to the kitchens.

* * *

Later in the day, to Merlin's relief, news spread that Lord Hedlef and his entourage would be leaving the next morning. Merlin spent the day in a happier mood, thankful for every chore that kept him in the charge of Arthur Pendragon and far away from the nobles of Essetir.

It had grown late when he made it back to Gaius' chambers. A meal waited for him on the table. Merlin stretched his arms above his head. The physician often left him a plate when he'd been called away. He rubbed at his eyes and made his way to his bedroom. He'd just begun to call out a spell to light a candle when a figure rose from his bed.

"Merlin."

Merlin bolted back through the main chamber, but the lord was stronger and faster, snagging him by the shoulder and tossing him to the floor. Merlin massaged his shoulder as he looked up at Hedlef flipping a knife in his hand.

"I needed that alliance," the lord growled. "Lot's been on my back and I wanted him _off_." He pointed the knife at Merlin. "What did you tell the king?"

Merlin stared for a moment, ignoring the fear coursing through his mind, trying to determine if this was a moment to use magic or if such a thing would lead to his swift execution.

Hedlef thrust the knife under his chin and Merlin gulped. "What did you advise him?"

Merlin met eyes that had once bored into him and ordered pain. His thoughts whirled back to a more recent memory this man had no part in, to another pair of green eyes he'd stared down defiantly. _I can die happy_ , he'd told Morgana. He still could, he realized. "I told him to do what he thought he should and _he_ didn't want to ally with you."

Hedlef snarled. Merlin closed his eyes, expecting a cut to the throat and already chanting a spell to combat it. A fierce backhand broke his concentration and sent him sprawling. His eyes watered and he opened them to see Hedlef shoving the knife back into his belt. "Worthless boot-licking cur!" he spat out. "It's time he learned who you really are."

"He's my servant and a loyal man."

Hedlef's gaze snapped to the door of the chamber. Merlin's view of the newcomer was blocked, but he relaxed, resting his head on the floor and watching Arthur's boots cross the room through table legs.

"Unless you want to be in the dungeon for assaulting my manservant, I suggest you leave."

"My lord." Hedlef's voice trembled and Merlin saw his boots rush out the door.

"Merlin." Arthur's hand gripped his arm and he let the king guide him to a sitting position. Arthur knelt in front of him, eyes darting all over his face. "Gods, Merlin, you're shaking like a leaf." He pulled at him and Merlin stood. The king aided him to his room and set him on his bed. Merlin took several deep breaths to steady his nerves. Arthur disappeared for a moment, then returned with a moist cloth he held to Merlin's cheek.

"All right. Tell me."

Merlin blinked. "He hit me."

"I _know_ that. I _saw_ that. Tell me what you haven't been telling me."

"There's nothing to..."

"Merlin!" Arthur reprimanded. He sighed. "If you want I can go on about servants and how they're weaker and can't deal with pain and it was only a little slap and you're a girl, but Merlin...you've faced down bandits and monsters and _Morgana_ at my side and never have I seen you this...petrified."

Merlin tried to steady his shaking hands in his lap.

"Who is Hedlef to you?"

Merlin finally met Arthur's intense eyes, eyes of concern and worry that didn't get sent his direction often. He relented, leaning over to hike up his right pant leg. He twisted his calf to the back and pointed at a thin white scar running sideways about as long as the distance between a stretched thumb and forefinger. "It's what I remember him by." He laughed shortly.

Arthur's brows drew together. "When did he do it?"

"Years ago. I think I was fifteen."

Arthur leaned back on the bed. "Tell me."

"Arthur..."

"Come on. It's about time I fathomed you out."

The use of his own words to the king lifted the corners of Merlin's mouth for a moment. He concentrated on his clasped hands. "Lord Hedlef did take over Ealdor for a time. The lords were always fighting over the lands then." He glanced over at Arthur. "Cenred was a dollophead ruler."

Arthur shared a smile with his servant, both of them having had their full of Cenred.

Merlin looked back at his hands. "He made Ealdor his base for several weeks while on a campaign. He ate our food and took our belongings and...sometimes women."

Anger rumbled in Arthur's throat.

"He took the only coin my mother had saved. When he decided to leave, I kind of rifled through his belongings the night before. Got back our coin and some other things he'd taken from the villagers. I thought he wouldn't notice before he left."

"But he did," Arthur intuited.

Merlin nodded. "Called us all out and said we had a thief amongst us and he wasn't leaving until the lawbreaker came forth." Merlin paused, biting his lip as his eyes grew damp.

Arthur's voice was quiet. "What happened?"

Merlin laughed mirthlessly. "I confessed. He found the stuff I'd taken back and then..." Merlin sucked in a breath. "Said he had to follow the law." Merlin wiped at his eyes with his right sleeve. He'd been terrified, unable to use his magic without chancing more dire consequences. His mother and Will had tried to defend him, but they'd been held fast by Hedlef's men. The other villagers just watched, sympathetic, but clearly glad it wasn't them at Hedlef's mercy. "He took a rope to my legs." Merlin's breath hitched. He'd never told this story to anyone.

"And left a scar?" Arthur inquired weakly.

"He didn't hold back. I couldn't walk for days."

"Merlin." Arthur's voice was horrified and Merlin couldn't take it. He turned and smiled.

"Stupid, huh? Defying a lord like that."

Arthur sat forward and gave him a light shove on the back of his neck. "Maybe. But it was _right_. It was an injustice."

"But it wasn't really."

"He stole from you."

Merlin turned a penetrating gaze on his king. "He's a lord. Kings and lords can define what's right and wrong however they want. And if they're arrogant prats, that's just their prerogative."

"Prerogative. Another big word, Merlin. Well done."

Merlin turned away but smiled at Arthur's attempt to lighten the mood.

"You're right," Arthur admitted. "Power can corrupt men. Make them do things they shouldn't, like..."

Merlin raised his eyebrows at his friend.

Arthur shrugged. "Attack people with maces." Merlin now grinned, recalling how they'd first met. "Why didn't you tell me this to begin with?"

"You needed the alliance," Merlin said simply.

Arthur's expression grew solemn. "I'll never need an alliance with someone who hurts _you_." Arthur stood, striding to the door, but paused with his hand on the handle. "I'd have him punished, but..."

"It wouldn't look good for you to cast judgment on a noble from Essetir over a peasant servant."

Arthur nodded.

"I understand," Merlin assured. "It's okay."

"Get some sleep," Arthur muttered as he left.

* * *

Merlin was awakened in the morning by a commotion in Gaius' chambers. He jumped up, wondering what medical emergency demanded their attention this time. He stumbled down the steps to the main chambers, smoothing his disheveled hair, then stopped when he saw Hedlef lying on a cot, sporting a large cut across his forehead and clutching at an arm angled unnaturally.

"What happened?" Merlin stammered.

"Ah...He wanted to show us a thing or two."

Merlin looked up to see Gwaine, Elyan, and Percival mingling in the doorway. Gwaine eyed him without a smile, but his eyes glinted. When Merlin marched up to the trio, Gwaine's voice quieted as he continued to explain.

"It didn't really work out that way."

Percival rubbed at the back of his neck. "Gwaine might have been saying something about nobles not being as good as peasants when it comes to a fight cause they're coddled infants that never grew up."

"You said it that nicely?" Merlin eyed his friend skeptically.

Gwaine just smiled sheepishly.

"Lord Hedlef didn't appreciate the joke," Elyan muttered. "Might have started a fight."

Merlin stared incredulously at them and whispered harshly. "Arthur's going to kill you when he finds out!"

"Arthur said you'd say something like that," Gwaine reported.

Elyan nodded gravely. "Said to tell you sometimes it's fortunate prats can pursue justice any way they want."

Merlin forced back a grin. He looked over his shoulder at Gaius tending Hedlef as several hands clapped him on the shoulder and footsteps receded down the hall. He glanced at the retreating backs of the knights and thought of his king somewhere in the castle, smirking in satisfaction.

And he finally understood why he felt safe in one of the least safest places on earth.


End file.
